"Jija ji mere doodh kahan nikalta hai," Roop whispered, her voice laced with a mix of defiance and allure, as she gently tugged at Manav's hair. Manav's eyes burned with an unrelenting desire as he leaned closer, his breath hot against Roop's breasts."Arre, Roop," he murmured, his voice low and rough, "Tum itni si baat nahin samjhti? Doodh toh tera nikal ke rahega, main dawa ka intezaam karta hoon jaldi hi, aur mere dil ki ichha hai ki main tere chhuche choos choos kar saara doodh pee jaun " His hands traced her curves, possessive and unrelenting, as if claiming every inch of her as his own. Roop's heart raced, her breath catching in her throat as she felt his fingers explore her, each touch igniting a fire she couldn't control.

(English translation- "Brother-in-law, my milk doesn't come ,"